~Prologue~
'I' Discordia: A fragile hand with slender, feminine fingers whose nails curved perfectly at the tips of the digits traced the freshly drawn ink. Each motion caressed the page tenderly as the reader absorbed the words. “Caeldonia” a whispered voice uttered into the darkened room lit only by a flickering candle resting near the book “what peril do ye face?” Those fingers moved to brush a few pale strands of her silken hair behind the tapered ear. The pages of the book had yellowed with time and as brittle as they appeared, they would not crumble. The book was not any ordinary book. It had been created long ago before the factions of Caeldonia had shifted and became at odds with one another. The book was a gift that foretold the fates of the land. Magics from the Druids, the Fae and even the dark forces of a Sorcerer combined to bind the destiny of Caeldonia within those brittle pages. It was meant as a tool to guide forces to preserve all that was sacred, and she, she was The Reader. Only she was able to read the blackened ink on the pages. It was a great honor and because of that honor she was left to sit in the tower and read, always read. The Reader had to stay pure and unbiased of how things were faring below. Her youthful face was pale from never experiencing the sun save for the few rays that would grace her room through the one minuscule window. Currently, her features were contorted into a look of distress. “So troublesome you are Caeldonia, clouds of darkness swirl about and everything is going to change when the ships land. Whatever will you do when your faith is tested? When everything you know is swayed and tumbles? Every day your fate grows dimmer and not even I can sort the strands as they entangle. The Sidhe and Sluagh keep picking each other off so set in their own ways and prejudices so that Ruis Nion is divided. The negativity of the Caeldonians only works to fester the growing darkness of Huath Idad. And Druis Tinne who’s always strived to preserve the land and protect all that is beautiful will face their greatest threat ever.” Her satiny gown shifted around her small frame as she stretched into a deep stretch, her hand balling into a fist to conceal a yawn. She had read everything the book had wished to tell her for the moment. Perhaps tomorrow there would be another page to pore over and ponder. Sitting on a plate beside her was a small loaf of bread and some cheese. It had been enough time since she had eaten that she did not recall quite when it was. The bread was dry and stale as she bit into it and chewed, before forcing herself to swallow. It was not much of a dinner but on an empty stomach it was enough, just barely. She finished the insignificant meal and made her way to the window. It looked out over the forest where scant signs of life showed near her prison. In the distance a roar of a dragon ripped through the air. Goose bumps coated her arms as a chill traversed her spine and her eyes closed as she fought off imagining what havoc was to be wreaked. “Dear sweet Caeldonia, what have you become?” 'II' Guest_Tsyrkis: The wide ocean blue, the blistering sun, the smell of sweat. It had all become too much for Leofryck. "I just want off this bloody ship, to set my foot on some dry land," the man said aloud, to no one in particular. For once, he was alone on deck. That was rare, given the fact that he was Knight Commander of the Knight's Templar. Generally, everyone on this ship was asking him permission to piss off the side of the thing. He had not found two moments of respite this entire voyage. However, he had it now, for whatever that was worth. The entire fleet had been sailing up along the coast for almost a month now, which meant they would be nearing their destination soon. A land, filled with pagans that still worshipped nature that all the eyes reported as being named Caelrodia. Cael... Caeldonia. Whatever. The old knight had been to every pagan land there was, by now. And he was not even that old. Six and thirty name days he had counted, and maybe a few left uncounted. Even then, that did not put him over forty. Yet, he felt in his bones he was getting too old to do this. He was tired of it. Tired of leading crusades into perfectly fine places, that were happy with whatever spiritual beliefs they had, and slaughtering the populace until they decided to convert. And he had made that perfectly clear to the church. So, they decided they would take a more peaceful approach this time: Set up a provincial government, that would only act to educate the populace of Christ and his rebirth. Knight Commander Leofryck could smell the lies in that tale with out a nose, just by looking at the fleet stretching out behind the ship. Almost five thousand crusaders, fully armed, fully armoured. If they were nature worshippers, Ser Leofryck highly doubted he would need this many men to handle them... in a peaceful manner. So, Ser Leofryck already knew what was expected of him... and he was simply tired of it. Sighing, the man stood up off the railing, and scratched at the scarred side of his face. He knew how horrible he must look, but in all his years of fighting for the Faith, it had only helped him. However, if he was going to handle this diplomatically, the scar would no doubt only hinder him. Sighing, the man pushed his back forward until it popped, and made for the captain's cabin. Or, rather, the bishop's cabin, as it had been so aptly named. The knight did not even bother knocking as he pushed the door open, from the sounds, he could already tell what was going on inside. And, sure enough, the bishop was being ridden like a horse by the whore he had picked up at their last stop. The bishop was by no means a healthy looking man. He was obese, greasy, and all around disgusting. Leofryck thought he looked worse than him, himself. Over the cries of pleasure the whore was omitting, the Knight Commander called out: "Bishop Chapman! HEY! GET THAT WOMAN OFF YOUR COCK AND ANSWER ME!" If the bishop hadn't heard Leofryck the first three times, he had when he yelled that. The woman went flying, naked as she was born, and hit the wooden floor hard. The bishop, already mildly clothed, sat up as quickly as he could. "Knight Commander! Lera is no whore! She is a clean, sanctified woman that I have allowed to give me earthly pleasure! You must learn this, good Commander." The knight scoffed. "I am sure. I suppose I should have said, 'Get that sanctified woman off your cock.' I apologize, Bishop. I simply came to as-" Just before the Knight Commander could finish his question, one of the men rushed in, one of the ship's sailors, and burst out immediately in a frantic: "Land ho! Land ho! We spot'd land, m'lords!" The Knight Commander turned immediately to the dirty, skinny, monkey of a man. "Truly? Show me this land, sire." Walking back out onto deck, Ser Leofryck noticed it was now packed with people, knights and sailors, crowding the edges of the galleas. The knight pushed through them, and stared in amazement at true land, appearing off the starboard side. It was then that the navigator ran up, waving a map around. "'Tis the land we seek! 'Tis the land we seek!" Ser Leofryck was certain he'd never been happier in his life. 'Lord God, thank you for this day.' 'III' HienrichTheUnbounded: “..... And so, the Saracens were forced to route due to the great bravery of Duke Godfrey and his brother, Baldwin. The Turks had come in, seeking to spill Christian blood and drive out the faithful and at first it was looking bad for the Norman who led that regiment, Bowaman. However just in the nick of time, as if guided by Christ himself, Godfrey, Baldwin and thousands of brave Knights dedicated saved him and his men from certain death by the turkish riders.” A young Knight recalled the tales of the first Crusade and the actions of different warriors during the time such as the famed Godfrey, Duke of Brabant, his brother, the treacherous and greedy man, Baldwin who gave up priesthood for a love of women and war and last but by no means least, Bowaman, who was the son of a Norman King that drove the Saracens out of southern Italy. The Knight had somewhat pale skin, that had some signs of being tanned from his days in the Holy Lands, aiding the maintaining of Order in the Kingdom of Jerusalem and escorting pilgrims safely through the lands. His hair was long and bright red, showing that he must have come from the North. Perhaps he was a Norman himself or a Norseman. It could be possible that he was a Breton from Brittany. Who knows? He joined this expedition to convert the heathen for a mixture of a lust for piety and maybe a chance at some gold. Aside from Knighthood, like many Templars, he was also a decent banker. He was good with numbers and he loved seeing gold enter his coffers. His face held a large scar across his cheek, and he looked towards his friend, a young Knight who wore a great helm over his head and grinned. His green eyes observed his friend, getting ready to speak. “I came here with my brethren, partially out of a lust to spread the faith but also because this could be a chance to make a large trading beacon out of this land. Perhaps they have some resources that would sell very well back home... Know what I mean?” He laughed a bit before the Knight widened his eyes under his helm in horror. “W.... What?! You'd defame the church with such a petty, earthly lust?!” The knight yelled in response to the red haired man's intentions. “Heh... Oh, and you are telling me that you came all the way out here, from your comfortable post in Acre with plenty a heathen to convert... Just to convert a bunch of nature worshipers? I find that a bit hard to believe, more so since I know your lust for the Duke's daughter nearly got both of your head's chopped off... In fact, I am the only one on this whole ship who has seen your....” His mouth got muffled as a gloved hand went over it. The man blushed under his great helm as he muted the Breton. “Shut it! Alright, maybe most of my reasons are not the purest but....” Soon they would hear that there was land ho and that caused both Knights to stand from their separate beds, looking to the doors and stepping out, gazing to the lands. “Oh... Thank the Saints!” The Breton spoke as he looked out to the shores, grinning and observing them quite carefully. “I can't wait until we hit land... I plan on tasting their food first! As long as it isn't more fish, it can't be that bad!” 'IV' Guest_Tsyrkis: The ship was in an uproar, now. Sailors were scrambling, knights were all but jumping for glee, but Knight Commander Leofryck was speaking with the captain of the ship, over all of it. "Put us in! We make landfall, NOW! Get our horses ready, and signal two other galleys in! I want at least half a hundred of us on land within the next thirty minutes, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, CAPTAIN?!" The captain, a meek old man as he was, bobbed his head up and down, and started sending the orders off. The Knight Commander pressed a palm to his forehead to quell the ache he could already feel coming. He had never heard so much excitement before, not even in the midst of battle. "Holy Father, I hate ships," the man said aloud, knowing that no one could hear him anyway. The heavy footed man pounded his way across the deck, crossing to the starboard side once again to gaze out onto the land. From what he could see, nature was thriving here. As far as the eye could see, rolling plains dominated the landscape, with sparse clusters of trees popping up every now and again. However, what really caught the knights eye was the column of smoke rising from the horizon to their north and west. 'It looks like the Order will have it's stronghold,' Leofryck though, a faint smile appearing on his unsinged lips. Whirling around, Leofryck caught sight of the bright red hair that marked his Knight's Lieutenant. The Commander marched over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, before speaking into his ear. "We are feet dry in less than forty minutes, as soon as we find a beach. We are taking fifty lances up to that smoke," the man said, pointing out the wispy white smoke drifting off the horizon. "You pick the men out," Leofryck finished, clapping the Lieutenant's shoulder once again, before turning to find the captain. "Captain Whitaker! Beach ahead! Have you sent the signals?!" "Aye, Commander! 'God's Finger' and 'The White Hull' are coming up!" "Good work, captain!" It was then that Leofryck turned to adress all the knights that had gathered up on deck. "Alright, men! We all know why we are here, and what we are doing! The Faith must spread to these pagan lands! Our first stop cannot be but a mile to the north and west! Half a hundred men will accompany me and the Knight's Lieutenant to speak to these locals! Also," the man said, grabbing one of the few priests that had been brought along. "You are coming too, brother. Perhaps you can get started early." The priest went white in the face, but before he could respond, the Knight Commander turned to the captain once again. "Send out the birds, we want the ships beaching and setting up a foothold! Once they are secure, await word from me. We want a strong presence overnight! Make that clear!" Grumbling to himself, the Knight Commander turned and made his way to the rail just in time to almost be thrown overboard by the galley sliding onto the sandy beach and rearing to a halt. Almost immediately the gangplanks were going down, horses were being unloaded, and men were setting their feet onto semi-dry land once again. Plopping down into the sand, Leofryck sighed. "Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will be done! Lets hop to it, men!" 'V' NovaGenesis: *The fires burned fiercely as they gathered. One by one they took their places creating a circle that mirrored the circumference of the moon that hung overhead in pale luminescent glory. Towering stones flanked them marking the border of the circle being formed. Each nude figure raising their palms to the sky in offerance of the life-force that flowed through their fragile forms. Every single mouth open wide, their howls working into the crescendo that would call Her forth from the depths of netherworld. Their eyes alight with the power that swam through the very currents of air turned to focus solely on the flames that flickered in golden shades of crimson. Though they would see very little for the mass of tender white robed virgin bodies that held each others’ hands and sang a hymn of welcome for the Mistress that they brought forth through the willingness of their sacrifice. While below the cliff the small colony of humans who had gathered and procreated slept. Peaceful in their beds, entirely ignorant of the activities that were bringing about their doom. With each breath their time ticked away while chilled breezes slipped through the barriers of their huts, slithering into the pores of their skin attaching to their vital organs and winding through the veins that pumped their blood. In the warmth of Her very own hell She slumbered having been weakened by the flames that robbed Her of all the souls She had collected. So many She had killed to gain this power and now with none of them left to be Her shield She slept awaiting the day when She would burn away with the smoke that rose from Her eternal chamber. Yet in centuries She had not heard such a sound. A melody that called Her toward them. Begging Her. Pleading not for Her mercy but for Her to wreak havoc once more. Blinking pearlesque milky opaque hues She stood. Parting full lips She began to inhale and with each moment Her form grew. Despite the grotesque deformities that She had endured in Her capture the writhing limbs stretched to resemble that of a woman. For no more perfect form existed for Her to hunt prey with.Up through molten lava, up through magma and rock, up to the surface that had once nurtured Her with abundance. She would find Herself at the heart of the flame She so detested. Clothed only in silk dark as night She’d make no move more than to open Her arms lovingly to those who had offered up their lives to restore her own. Stepping out of the blaze She moved in silence past them all, frost forming on the ground in Her wake as it attached itself to their legs spearing their feet in place before forming crystallized spires that impaled each one repeatedly. No shriek nor sigh would come from those whose white robes were now stained the same ruby as Her lips for their deaths had been almost instantaneous. Eyeing the naked bodies of Her faithful servants She moved forward once more laying delicate fingertips upon their midsections in an almost loving caress. Only after taking enough strides to have touched each one would She clench her fist sending the barest of of shivers through them followed by threads of ice that spread along the path of her fingers. Each thread in turn expanded tearing open the torsos of Her unfortunate victims yet Her new reign had only begun… With a soft chuckle She stretched and called back the whisps of icey air and along with them anything they had wound around. The resulting cacophony of screams from below became an impromptu symphony of discord for Her. Grinning at the gorey delight of hunks of dripping flesh heading her way. She closed Her eyes and opened Her mouth as She began to twirl in the shower of sanguine fluid. It did not matter who died this night friend, foe or indifferent for it was not them who summoned Her forth. It was the winds of change creating a blizzard in the land of Caeldonia. Letting her laughter fade She began her trek toward real civilization. Yet from the shadows She was being watched. And that one would fade from view no sooner than She turned to confront what was most certainly no longer a living being.* “Pesky spirits. They don’t bleed so what good are they?” 'VI' HienrichTheUnbounded: “Heh... It kind of reminds me of my home coasts of Brittany.” Sior spoke as he looked over to the young, Helmed Knight. “Like this land, there is plenty of nature, only very small amounts of lands are actually corrupted. Some would say that God took a chunk of the Britannia and brought it to the Northwestern coast of France, merged it together and that was how Brittany was formed. I don't know about that, but I do know that I may feel a bit at home here. If anything, it will be better than the blasted deserts that test your faith whenever you enter the Holy Lands...” He grumbled that last bit, causing the Knight behind him to chuckle loudly under his helmet. “Well, I come from Roma.” The man spoke with a Latin accent. “The land there is honestly not that much colder than Jerusalem or Acre. If anything, it is just like that area but it just rains more and is less sandy. Though there is still plenty of heat.” The knight gazed in wonder towards the lands that were nearing the ship and once Leofryck, the aged Knight-Commander approached, Sior looked at him and stood up straight and nodding. “Yes sir. I will gather up some of my trusted men who fought with me in the Holy Lands. The good news is, they have me, a native to forests, to lead them...” He then gazed over towards his comrade and nodded. “Jonas, gather up the boys. It is time we introduce them to some sand that isn't just going to lead to more sand and wine with sand in it...” He chuckled a bit. Then when the Commander spoke up, Sior looked at him carefully and with some respect, as much respect as he could gather for people that were not actively giving him money. Then when the gangramps were lowered and the horses were being unloaded, Sior started shouting towards his men. “Alright boys! Get your land legs ready and your horses unloaded. We are hitting land now and I want to see your feet on the sands right after I step onto them!” He ordered and his men shouted with excitement as they did just as he said, going down to the area that the horses were kept and bringing them out. Jonas, his best friend from the Crusader States, personally brought Sior's horse and smiled under his helm. “Sir, here is your horse. She has new shoes, a new saddle and new reigns. I hope that she will serve you well.” Sior mounted onto his horse, looking around and up to Leofryck. “Sir! Would you like us to scout out ahead? We need to make sure that these natives are friendly!” 'VII' Airvei: Darkness plagued the catacombs of the Unseelie. There they hid beneath the land in a series of tunnels and caves. There was even an underground castle beneath a mountain in the warring lands of Caeldonia. This castle would be named after the lord who blessed its throne with his hind: Draugcon Castle. Sitting up his throne laced with bone and blood from ignorant humans and egotistical elves was Áed Draugcon. A bejeweled blade struck ground next to the throne like a scepter of sorts while his nimble fingers wrapped around the pommel. "M'Lord! M'Lord!" A small, disfigured elven figure with a hunched back wobbled his way to the throne, kneeling in Áed's presence. "What do you need," he'd ask as he stood from the throwing, placing the peculiar blade within its sheath. "A bunch of human folk just seemed to approach the land! They must be planning to wipe us all out like they did with the others elsewhere." The monster trembled in excitement, leaping with his ironically tiny legs. Áed would sigh as he began moving from his throne, a cute elven woman coming behind him and placing a silver chain around his shoulders that had a ruby after every link. Another elven woman followed her and placed an obsidian fur cape around him while he walked. They both quickly scurried back as two particularly large elven men came through corresponding tunnels to take their place. This was a regular day for the underground kingdom of Cadeyrn. While running his tongue across his rich lips in a suggestive manner that just barely crossed the line from sensual, Áed would signal his need for water. Another elven woman with a tray rushed to his side, walking with him as he wrapped his nimble digits around the golden grail before placing his two fleshy folds across the rim, letting the ale creep through his mouth and slide down his throat roughly like that of a thrashing waterfall. Twas time for another purge. The humans had to go as soon as possible. They'd already had trouble having to live in the lost kingdom because of those wretched Seelie's. Around the castle were five different tunnels, each at their respective points (NW, NE, SW, SE, S) which led to other tunnels that led to other tunnels that led to villages that led to other tunnels that led to the outside world. Áed's kingdom was elaborately thought out for war in the case that any of the other factions may try something... funny. Good thing only Áed and his most trusted generals knew every tunnel and every secret of the maze. It'd be like trying to catch an army led by a king with one single pawn. Placing the grail back on the tray, the woman scurried away and Áed would part his lips to speak, "I want five hundred men prepared for battle and two hundred horses!" He'd turn to the larger men behind him. They knew what to do in situations like these. Two hundreds horses meant a cavalry w/ swords & a single lance. The other three hundred men would be separated by class meaning one hundred archers to block out the sun <_< and two hundred swordsmen to die in honor. They ferociously screamed out the orders, the soldiers quickly gathering and preparing for arms. A white horse draped in golden threads and completed with a silk covered mount arrived at the front of the castle as Áed and the two colossal Sluagh guards exited. The Sluagh-Sidhe King would mount his noble stallion, cursing his expensive threads with the stench of a horse. Twas fine though as he was notably the wealthiest man in all of Caeldonia. "I want each foot-soldier readied at the tunnel entries." For some strange reason they all gazed at his majestic make, probably infatuated by his flawless visage. He rarely came from the castle to speak with the others, "Now!" He shouted in rage as they all rushed to their positions. It would only be a game of chance now. The archers and the cavalry remained with him while the others waited for the humans to fall in their trap. The king, Áed, sat dormant upon his mount as he awaited the massacre to begin. His stoic visage kept definition upon his 'flawless' bone structure. His silky onyx tresses laid upon his garbs, sleeping until he was to jerk his head or make some other movement allowing them to flutter in the wing like the wings of a fallen angel. Hazel orbs rest within his cranium, glistening in the light of torches which also brought a mild shine upon his silver crown. It's time for war, he thought. Never again would his people have to fall prey to the ignorance and buffoonery of these mere humans. 'VIII' Guest_Tsyrkis: As the Knight Commander pulled himself up into the saddle of his destrier, he heard the Knight's Lieutenant shouting back at him. "Nay, Lieutenant! If they are not friendly, perhaps I can talk them into it! Love and peace, gentlemen! The church has done enough killing of pagans!" The Knight Commander then leaned over and plucked up the heater shield that was being offered to him. The shield itself was thick, but rather small, truly only meant for use on horseback. Ser Leofryck hoped he would not need it at all, with any luck. Spurring the Destrier forward, Leofryck took hold of the warhorse's reins and examined the men whom were mounting up to head out with him. All of them were wearing the snowy white tunics, tabards, and surcoats, emblazoned with the red cross that every human eye recognized as Templar. Well, almost every human eye. These pagans that awaited in this land surely did not. Leofryck turned his eye to the north and the south, and saw ships landing men left and right. Most were heavy calvary, meant to run through lines and chop down problemsome groups of enemies as quickly as possible. The rest were light calvary, meant only to deal with other calvary units. Every one of the men were also adept at fighting on foot. Most were better at it, in fact. Tis one of the things that made the Templars such effective fighters, is that most weren't too weighed down by armor to fight on their feet. If they were dehorsed, they would generally be able to keep fighting. Sighing, the Knight Commander stopped at the front of the group of readied knights. The priestly brother was riding behind a knight Leofryck didn't recognize thanks to his great helm. "Alright, men. We ride into unknown lands. Keep an eye out for movement, alert the company if you see anything. Also, stay in the open if at all possible. We want to be clear to whoever may be watching that we are not a threat." The old knight then looked up to the captain, whom was hanging over the railing of the galley. "Captain! Send a bird, I want outriders scouring the land. Tell them to report back if they see any other settlements!" The Commander then turned his gaze back to the men with him. "Alright! Let's go do God's work, men! Put Faith in thy steel! RIDE!" And with that, the Commander wheeled his destrier around, and kicked the thing into a run, knowing the knights would follow. 'IX' Discordia: “Ah so fragile, it is what makes them so damn beautiful.” Flynn thought with his chest rising and falling into a sigh as he reached over and brushed the red ringlet off the freckled face of the girl lying next to him. Where her excited green eyes were moments before now were softly closed lids, as she slept off the exhaustion he had caused. He brought his lips to the center of the girl’s forehead with a brief thought of gratitude that he could experience her long before wrinkles had marred her skin and grey flowed through the deep scarlet of her hair. Flynn was as different from the girl as night and day. The shortness of her human life was only intensified by his immortal elven life. Where she was bright and vibrant he was pale and somber, with his milky skin and corn silk hair that trailed down his back. Her exposed curves only concealed by a thin blanket as they lie next to his slender and wispy frame. A groan escaped his parted lips as he dragged himself away from the sleeping maiden, well perhaps she wasn’t exactly a maiden anymore he thought with a mischievous smirk as he slipped into his tunic and breaches. A small oval looking glass hung on the wall and he attempted to correct his appearance so that he at least appeared somewhat proper. The night had carried on and he had had his fun but now it was time for duty. On silent steps he slipped from the room undetected with not even so much of a stir from his sleeping conquest. It fazed him little of her reaction when she awoke alone, it was probably best anyways. Flynn doubted that there would be anything good of the Clan Leader finding his daughter lying with a Fae. It was a warm night with a cool breeze as he made his way back to court. The Queen called gatherings at such odd hours. He knew he should be more filial when it came to his duties as his noble, but how could anyone be excited for such a boring thing as a meeting where the topics would drone on and on. Flynn would much rather be experiencing beauty in any way he could. He finally reached the veil that concealed the court from the eyes of others and slipped through the crack. If anyone had been watching, it would have seemed that he had vanished into thin air. It seemed the halls were rather empty as he made his way to the council chambers and slipped into the back somewhere, hopefully unnoticed because it appeared he was late. The Queen had already launched into a monologue about how the Sluagh were becoming more daring every day and that they needed to be controlled. Flynn was listening partially while trying to remember if it had been Brighid or Bryna. It really mattered not. His back straightened as he tried to refocus on what was being said. It was increasingly difficult, given that he was an artist not a fighter. He would sing ballads about the fighters while keeping his pretty face pretty. Just when Flynn thought he could tolerate no more, a small sprite slipped into the room. It was rather unheard of that other fae would interrupt the Queen’s Councils, and the interruption caused him to straighten in his chair as he listened intently to the hushed words. Movement at the tunnels, he thought. Aed must be up to no good and had certainly managed to ruffle the queen’s skirts as she only grew in volume of her raging. He wondered if he were able to slip out of the room unnoticed. 'X' HienrichTheUnbounded: Sior nodded in response to the order given by the commander. “Alright boys, you heard him! Don't attack until attacked first, or given the order to! We need to show these savages that we children of god have both Science and Civilization on our side and perhaps they can increase their humanity by becoming members of the faith! Men, be on your best behavior! Do not take anything that isn't offered to unless ordered, do not take women that isn't offered unless ordered. You never know with these people. If they are anything like the Saracens in the Holy Lands, or the Pagans of the Baltic, then these people are very easy to startle.” He then looked over to the commander, nodding to him and advancing slowly behind him, with his own band of warriors advancing not too far behind him. Many of them gazed towards the Cogs that landed on the shores, carrying more Knights and Priests for later advances into the mainland. 'XI' Guest_Tsyrkis: The thunder of hooves was a sound the Knight Commander had missed. A group of fifty horses thundering together made a sound one could hear for miles. It was almost like an earthquake. As a matter of fact, depending on where you were... it was an earthquake. The Templars were riding fast and hard for the smoke, which, as soon as the source was visible, turned into a village. A small, measely thing, but easily defendable once it was build up some. It stood in a clearing, much like the plains around them, so that it was visible from almost a mile away. Not only was it small, but as Leofryck saw as they got closer, it was quite unseemly. The buildings were ugly, probably cut straight from the woods that more than likely once surrounded the place. Closer, and closer they got to the village. At a certain point, Leofryck could see people scrambling about, or just standing there, watching in wonder at the oncoming group of horses and dust. All of a sudden, from the coast, Leofryck saw a much smaller group of riders also approaching the village. This group could not have numbered more than five and twenty, though they were all armoured just as Leofryck's group was. It seemed, for a moment, that this group was going to beat Leofryck's to the village. However, upon seeing the larger group, the outriders slowed, and spread out, as though they were going to surround the village. 'Must have gotten the wrong message,' the Knight Commander thought. Grumbling, he put his sights back on the village. As they neared the outer perimeter, the Knight Commander ordered the group to slow to a trot, and eventually to a walk. People were hunkering down in their houses already, hiding behind closed doors. Though some, maybe... braver, or dumber than the rest, were standing, plain as day, out in the center of the village as the knights rode in. "Dismount, secure the perimeter!" the Commander barked out, as he hopped off his destrier and walked into the center of the small, dingy village. "Good people of Caeldonia! We come, in peace! We are messangers of the most high God, here and willing to teach all those who want to learn! Is there any of you that can speak for this village as a whole?! Is there any of you that can even speak my tongue?!" The Knight Commander, his shield still strapped to his left arm, gazed out into the crowd, looking for anyone to step forward. "Please, we do not mean you any harm! Come and speak with me! The most high God has sent me here to change all those who would see the light to his path!" Sighing, the Knight Commander continued his hard stare into the crowd. No one moved. They all just... stood there, staring. Someone coughed. But no one made to speak. Leofryck could see the terror in their eyes. 'Maybe if we came unarmed, this would have been a whole lot easier...' the man thought, sighing once again. 'XII' Airvei: More often than not, Áed grew bored within the confines of his underground kingdom. Maybe I should pay the Queen a visit, he thought. She probably hated him with a burning passion because of his race and his faction. People were close-minded like that. He often gave brief speeches about how humans lacked humanity and the Seelie lacked freedom. "I'm leaving," if anyone hadn't noticed, he never referred to anyone by their name but they always knew who he was talking to. He nodded to the two massive guards, "I'd hope you're able to keep things under control. I want those humans to know they're not alone." He'd gesture to a measly lancer, "I want twenty more lancers to come with me." "But m'Lord-" "Do not question me." All the soldier could do was nod and follow orders. Twenty more cavalrymen came to his side, with their lances in hand and their swords at bay. Áed always had a particular... bond with the Queen of the Seelie Court. They'd rush out of the royal tunnel secret, hidden and unknown and begin looking for the door to the Seelie faction's land. Coming across one of their mini-sprite minions, Áed's men would make haste. Áed himself was soft-spoken and disarming when it came to speaking to others. He was fairly respectful and noble to the majority of the people he speaks to. What he considers to be respectful is another matter, however. The lancer quickly snatched the sprite by its wings mid-flight and brung it back to the Sluagh-Sidhe King. "I apologize for my friend's brutality, you see. I wish to speak with the Queen, please m'Lady." He'd part his lips for a dashing smile, revealing picture-perfect teeth. In a sense, he was almost 'too' perfect. His mien was rarely seen beyond his castle, however; so this would be a surprise to the sprite. Most stories of his visage described him to be humongous and ferocious, striking fear into the souls of all that gaze upon him. In reality he was beautiful with a tall, slender frame and unblemished ivory skin that brings out the hazel orbs in his head. He turned to another soldier and told him to call off the attack. He had other plans in mind... Rose would fill the cheeks of the sprite as he spoke but then she'd come back to her senses somewhat. He was evil... but he was so infatuating... no, he's evil!... but beautiful. What am I thinking, she thought? She simply gestured for him to follow, not knowing what to do. He nodded, that beam never leaving his visage over time. "Oh... and tell her if she does not come to me... I will order a purge on the closest village." Trembling in fear, the sprite would slip through the veil, seemingly vanishing in thin air. Áed was the less ignorant of the amazed bunch. He knew the secret of their hidden magics. He knew how it worked, hell, he was fae himself. Now they must wait, the lancer behind him positioned like a triangle with him being the head. 'XIII' Discordia: The ships had finally landed and Alena stood perched on a bluff over the coast. Her silhouette was concealed by a crop of trees as her jade eyes peered at the movement below. A deep crease formed in her brow as she watched what looked like an approaching army invade the shores. She sighed and slung her bow over her shoulder. Althought Alena was Arch Druid, she hardly looked as if she held that sort of power. Her appearance was that of a youthful lass, despite over seven centuries of experiencing life weighing her down. She had a tumble of deep red hair that fell in voluminous curls down to the small of her back, being held back out of her eyes by a leather circlet. Instead of donning some elegant gown, the petit girl instead opted for sturdy breaches and a tunic paired with leather boots. Most of her time was spent in the forests, so anything else would be illogical. Her feet carried her effortlessly away from the cliff towards the village that seemed directly in their path. She had no idea what these invaders wanted in her Caeldonia, but as their grieves dug into the sandy beaches leaving divots as they carried on forward, she had a feeling that it was not going to be a peaceful course of action. Knowing the clans, the manner in which the intruders arrived with weapons abundant and no concern for the land around them, it was likely to be a tense situation to say the least. Alena would do all in her power to prevent it from mounting.